


Connor: Become Human

by snusnu95



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor model 52, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Father/Son, Friendship, Gen, Platonic Love, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), RK800 - Freeform, father/son relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 08:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18028694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snusnu95/pseuds/snusnu95
Summary: For his entire existence, Connor has had to follow orders. Run: How far? Jump: How high? But now, with Cyberlife behind him, how will Connor adjust to becoming his own 'person'





	Connor: Become Human

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Welcome to my very first Detroit: Become Human fanfic! Like most DBH fans, I fell in love with Connor, Hank and their friendship! I've been wanting to write my interpretation of this very popular scene and so here it is! I'm not sure whether I'll write more at this stage and I'm still getting a feel at writing the pair of them but I guess, watch this space :)

Hank awoke to his face pressing into the cool tiles of his kitchen floor. He groaned, noting his throbbing headache and the light streaming in through the windows along with the gentle hum of the TV in the background.

Something warm and wet grazed along his face and he startled before quickly realising Sumo had come to investigate his now non-lifeless body.

“Hey, Sumo,” Hank grumbled, his voice sounding heavy in his ears as he gave the dog a scratch. The St Bernard’s fur flowed easily through his fingers, and Sumo gave him a quick sniff in satisfaction before returning to the lounge room.  

Hank smirked slightly at the sight of the lumbering dog before fully sitting up and wiping at his fatigued face. His eyes found the broken window which had been since taped up with a black garbage bag. It was a miracle no one had broken in; given the fact Sumo was such a terrible guard dog.

He sighed, the garbage bag bought Connor to the forefront of his mind again. The kid had saved him last night. Well, sure, the kid had surprised him bursting through the door in the middle of the night and dragging him to Cyberlife under the guise of ‘someone is breaking in’ only for it to be revealed that the Connor with him was not _his_ Connor.

Hank would never forget the blank brown eyes that bored into his as the gun rested against his temple, not for as long as he lived.

Hank shook his head, remembering the scene – Connor standing by the obedient android about to turn him deviant; that was when ‘60’ as Hank had ‘affectionately’ named the doppelganger (due to Connor pointing out that he was version ‘52’, while the fake was version ‘60’) emerged with him in tow. Connor had put himself and the entire mission, the entire _revolution_ at risk for Hank, fighting with 60. His stomach dropped at how close he had been to shooting _his_ Connor, and his blood ran cold at the mere thought of it.

But, thankfully both Connor and 60 had made it pretty obvious who was who, and Hank had no doubt in his mind when he pulled the trigger.

Hank rubbed at his eyes again before lifting himself off of the floor, swaying slightly as his head swam. He rummaged through the cupboards and found two Tylenol and downed them with a gulp of water from the tap.

He shuffled over to the TV which was playing a morning news report. The images of last night’s peace march were being played back. A smile came to his lips at the sight of the thousands of recently liberated androids looking to their defacto leader.

“Wait-?” he stumbled, sure his hungover eyes were playing tricks on him. He almost fell over the couch for the remote, and Sumo looked up in interest. He rewound the news back a few seconds and played the clip again. The image was only on for the briefest of seconds, but there was no mistaking it.

Markus was standing in front, proud, as he spoke and he was surrounded by several androids that Hank did not recognise, but off to the side he saw him – standing so poignantly and not a hair out of place.

Connor.

 _His_ Connor.

_He survived._

Immense relief washed over Hank, he had done it. He had completed his task and had survived. After the relief vanished, Hank was left with a terrible pool of sadness in his gut, along with resentment.

Why had he grown so attached to the damn android? He had known Connor for not even a week and here he was, hungover in his house and feeling _sad_ that it was unlikely he would see him again. Connor was free; he did not have to abide by his programming anymore. Why would he want to be around Hank? Hank hadn’t exactly been kind to the kid.

Hell, he’d put a gun to his head.

Hank shook his head to get rid of the emotions, and reached for his whiskey bottle. He raised it to his lips, and then his eyes caught sight of the black bag on the window and he stalled. There was just something about the damn kid that made him feel guilty about his drinking.

“Dammit,” Hank muttered, slamming the bottle down none too gently onto the table.

Hank glanced at his watch ( _11:13am_ ) and sighed. Fast food had to be better than drinking, right? Plus, it was nearly lunch time and hot, greasy fast food was the sure fire way to get rid of a hangover.

It was time for Chicken Feed.

xXx

Connor had left the deviants after Markus’s big speech. He did not know if any of them had noticed, but as they had begun to plan for the future he had slipped away. It’s not that he didn’t trust them, but he was more worried about them not trusting _him._

After all, it was only mere _hours_ ago that he had infiltrated Jericho and led the humans and their bombs to them. He had nearly killed them all, hell, he had killed some of them and he frowned at the thought of the damage he had inflicted.

His actions at the Cyberlife Tower did not make up for the damage he had already caused – deviancy or no deviancy.

So he walked.

The city was dark, bitterly cold and very empty as the deviant made his way through. He didn’t have a specific place in mind; he just needed to put distance between him and the rest of the world.

His feet carried him to a child’s park near the river.

He sighed, unsure of whether he had consciously decided to come here, or if his subconscious had decided for him. The park was eerie, and the snow swirled around the still play equipment. He walked to the bench that Hank had sat on mere days ago.

This was the place where the police lieutenant had put a gun to his head.

This was the place where Connor had felt _fear_ ; true fear for the first time in his very young existence, and that was the reason why Hank had spared him.

Over the several days he had worked with the lieutenant he had developed a soft spot for the old, grizzled human. Hank had been tough on him; but certain decisions Connor had made had resulted in the human becoming much more sympathetic – saving him instead of chasing the deviant, not shooting Chloe for Jericho’s location, saving Hank in Stratford tower even at the cost of his own life, and showing fear.

For a brief moment, he considered making his way to Hank’s house.  

But he couldn’t do it.

Firstly, it was very late at night and the lieutenant was probably asleep. However, who knew if he even wanted to see him, given all that happened in the last twenty-four hours. Hank had punched Perkins in the face, probably costing him his job. He had also nearly gotten his brain blown out by Connor’s doppelganger.

Connor’s thirium ran cold at the idea of Hank losing his life because of him. Hank had lost so much already, and Connor was very thankful that he still had his life. No, he was comfortable alone in his home, with his dog. He did not need a homeless android turning up to annoy him.

The thought ran through Connor’s mind. What was he going to do? He had already dismissed the idea of going to live with Hank, but where else could he go? He couldn’t go back to Cyberlife, the company was now likely to go bankrupt and he was now a deviant so he wasn’t going to be welcomed back anytime soon. He thought briefly about returning to the others and living among them in a ‘New Jericho’.

But even that thought passed as quickly as it had come. He had circled around again and realised that he _did not belong there_. He knew that Markus would welcome him with open arms, like some sort of twisted prodigal son but he couldn’t stomach it. He couldn’t take the stares and the constant feeling of shame of what he had done. That he had caused Jericho’s end.  

He pushed the thought into the back of his mind and sighed. The sun had well and truly risen and was casting a watery glow through the city. It felt very serene – the soft sunlight and the swirling snow around him.

Connor continued on, not sure what destination he had in mind but his feet and body seemed to have other ideas.

xXx

Hank groaned as he pulled up to his favourite fast food joint. Of course Chicken Feed was shut. He had forgotten that most people weren’t as stubborn and gruff as he was, or had incorrectly anticipated the danger the protest would bring.

Most people had evacuated, and it seemed this included Gary.

Hank’s fingers drummed on the steering wheel as he considered what to do. He could always return home, but right now he couldn’t stomach the thought of the empty place being along with just his thoughts.

_But you’re alone with your thoughts here too._

_At least there’s no whiskey here. Or guns._

He shook his head and stepped out of the car into the bitterly cold November air. He shivered, pulling his coat around himself and crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t know why he was forgoing his warm car to stand out in the cold, willing for Chicken Feed to open.

A very small irrational part of his brain wondered if he would come.

_Don’t be stupid Hank! Connor just led a revolution – he sure as shit ain’t coming to see your sorry ass._

It still didn’t stop that small part of him from hoping however and against his better judgement he kept his stubborn ass in the cold.

xXx

Connor quickly realised where his subconscious had led him, the streets more familiar with each step he took.

He was nearing Chicken Feed, Hank’s favourite fast-food joint in all of Detroit (for reasons Connor couldn’t understand however, his scans told him of fifteen better cafes, restaurants and fast food stores in a one mile radius). He didn’t know why he was here.

_Hank isn’t going to be here. The Lieutenant is at home, with Sumo, watching the game on TV with a drink in his hand._

Connor cringed at the idea of Hank’s drinking, as it often led him to suicidal impulses but the thought of Hank comfortable in his sweats, beer in hand and his lovable St Bernard by his side made him smile.

A soft breeze blew, whipping up the lighter fragments of snow into the air. He lifted his head, and noted a grey-haired figure close-by, standing by a black car and a closed food trailer.

xXx

Hank kicked at the snow on the ground, the cold getting the better of him. He unfolded his arms and had one last look down the street, only to see a _very_ familiar figure in the distance. There was no mistaking the white shirt and tie, long black slacks, grey Cyberlife jacket with the blue and the LED on the side of his head.

Hank’s blue eyes met Connor’s brown ones, and the emotion hit him like a freight train.

Hank smiled, a small thing, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

xXx

Connor returned the lieutenant’s half-smile with one of his own. He knew now why his subconscious had bought him here; although it had been a coincidence (his processors telling him a 0.06% chance of this outcome) he was grateful for it all the same.

Hank stepped toward him, the same smile on his face. Before Connor could speak, before he could even move Hank had stepped into his personal space, placing a hand on the back of his neck and enveloped him into his arms.

Connor had never been hugged before. Or held, or touched by a human like this before.

xXx

The android felt stiff in his arms, but Hank continued to hug him anyway. He had never been more grateful in his life to see someone, to hold them, to know they were okay.

He felt Connor’s body language loosen as the android placed a tentative hand on his back.  

Connor had returned to him.

He had come home.

xXx

_Hank: **Family^^**_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate kudos, subscriptions, bookmarks and comments! It all means the absolute world to me! I've been wanting to write for this fandom for a while now. I also appreciate constructive criticism! 
> 
> Right now, it's pretty feelsy but I want to make it more humorous in future. We'll see how we go!


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